


Decompartmentalization

by Eyrian



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mustang Team Ships Royai, Mustang's Team, Royai - Freeform, team shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyrian/pseuds/Eyrian
Summary: Jean Havoc and Rebecca Catalina propose an idea to Roy to make Riza jealous enough to admit her feelings. The plan, completely backfires, but is it too late for the team to get their General and Lieutenant together?
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 50
Kudos: 103
Collections: FMA: Mustang+Hawkeye





	1. The First Plan

Under the dim light of Safford & Jensen’s well-kept bar, Roy sat in the booth across from Jean and Rebecca without taking off his coat.

“This is a finer establishment than I usually associate with you, Havoc,” Roy remarked as the younger man put out a cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

Jean smiled, “Well, we wanted you to be comfortable, and I assumed you liked nicer places.”

“Since you’re always dressed so fancy,” Rebecca added.

“I appreciate the thought, but any place serving beer on tap would’ve been fine.”

Jean slid one of the three tankards in front of him over to Roy. He lifted one up. “To love!” he shouted. Rebecca did the same. Roy raised an eyebrow but toasted with them. He took a sip and didn’t mind the taste.

“Is there something you two need?” he asked, never one for chit-chat.

“It’s about what _you_ need, General,” Rebecca replied with a smile, as she wound a hand around Jean’s left bicep. “And how we can help you get it.”

He gestured for them to go on as he took another sip of his beer, but he had a feeling they couldn’t help him anymore than they already had. His trajectory towards Fuhrer looked clear at this point, and Fuhrer Grumman remarked frequently that he preferred Roy to Olivier Armstrong. His team was loyal, effective, brilliant, and capable. They were already giving him what he wanted, and he didn’t think there was more to offer.

“Permission to speak freely, sir,” Havoc requested.

“Permission granted, but don’t make me regret it.”

“We have noticed, and I mean more than just me and Rebecca, that you and the Lieutenant have… a connection. More than that, sir, we’re fairly confident there’s some romantic attachment, am I right?”

Roy glared as he took another long sip of beer and gathered his thoughts. “That would be unprofessional of me, Jean. You’re about to cross a line.”

“ _Is_ it unprofessional though?” Rebecca asked, leaning forward. “I mean, I know your history. She confides me in a lot. I know you two practically grew up together and have been through hell together. And during the Promised Day battle a few years ago, wasn’t she always the one the enemy chose as a hostage against you and then to force you to make human transformation?”

He stared down at his quickly-emptying mugged and wished he knew how to transmute more beer.

“Also,” Jean began again, and Roy realized they’d prepared all this in advance. “I know about the change in military regulations from the Fuhrer. It’s not exactly ‘anything goes,’ but if you tell the court martial office about your relationship before you begin, then it’s permitted.” 

He and Rebecca exchanged a brief, flirtatious look. Had they already done such a thing for themselves, or were they planning to? It didn’t matter. Roy tried not to be invested in his subordinates’ love lives.

“This is irrelevant. The Lieutenant has no interest, and she has made that perfectly clear.”

“And how has she made that clear, sir?” Rebecca asked with a smirk.

Roy glared. “I thought she told you everything.”

“Ah, that’s the problem.” Rebecca held up a finger. “Do you know the one thing she never talks to me about? She’ll tell me about potty-training Hayate, meeting a kind stranger in the farmer’s market, and that one day when she got three paper-cuts. She updates me on the dating lives of her fellow officers” –she nudged Jean at that, as though she was angry he’d dated someone before- “and who she ran into at the mess hall. Yet she never mentions you.”

Jean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Hmm, wonder why she never mentions the person she spends eighty percent of her waking hours with.”

“Hmm!” Rebecca repeated, clearly enjoying herself.

 _I hate them_ , Roy thought. His beer was all gone, so he took Jean’s.

“So, General, why are you so sure she’s not interested? What has she not told me?”

He felt embarrassed and out of control. Though it was true that he considered his personal life and his professional life to be no different, he was still just as guilty of compartmentalization as any man. And Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was in a box. Her box came with a lid and duct-tape, and he never broke that seal. It had cost too much to lock her in there, and he didn’t know if he could do it twice.

It’s why he never went on more than two dates with the same woman, why he didn’t go to weddings, why he mocked happily married men, why he scowled at Jean and Rebecca’s flirtations even now. If he opened himself up to any of those things, the seal might break. In order for him to make it to the top, he needed her. And in order to bring her with him, he kept all feelings for her locked away and swallowed the key. 

And he’d become _very_ good at ignoring that box.

“What she didn’t tell you is that I have brought the matter up with her myself. A few times. She made it very clearly it would be impossible and that we had to put our work above such matters.”

What she didn’t have to tell him is that she wanted it, too. He remembered her innocent, enraptured eyes when they grew up together in the Hawkeye mansion. She was young and didn’t know how to hide her feelings. Everywhere he went, she found an excuse to follow him, and he became addicted to the amount of affection he saw in her eyes. The night before he left for the academy, he’d taken advantage of it, snuck into her room, and stolen one kiss goodbye.

He only realized years later that it had probably been her first kiss, probably given her false hope, and definitely was inappropriate.

“When?” Jean asked, surprise taking over most of his mischievous grin.

“Years ago. Before the Promised Day.”

“It’s different now, sir,” Rebecca said. She, too, looked more earnest than goofy now. He almost missed their playful tones. This was becoming too serious. 

“She’s aware of the law. If she wanted something to happen, she could ask for it.”

Jean shook his head. “Not really. You’re not exactly private about your dating life.”

“I’m her superior officer. I’ve taken advantage of… my position… before. I’m not going to do that again, especially when she’s never _openly_ expressed interest.”

“That’s where we come in!” Rebecca’s excitement came back in full force. “We have a plan.”

He rubbed his forehead, anticipating a truly bad idea. “And what’s that?”

“Make her jealous,” Jean whispered.

He was correct. “I’m disappointed, Havoc. I expected more from you.”

Jean pouted, clearly offended. “Hey, what’s wrong with my idea?”

“As you said, I’m not exactly private about my dating life. If she was going to be jealous, she would have already been by now.”

“Exactly,” Rebecca grinned. “You have a pattern. But what if you _broke_ that pattern?”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What are you suggesting?”

Jean answered, “You tend to go on one or two dates, and then move on to the next girl with a silly excuse about why the last one didn’t work out.”

“I don’t -“

“Yes, you do,” Jean and Rebecca said simultaneously.

“So, this time,” Jean continued. “You should talk about how you’ve been seeing a girl for quite a while now. It would be completely unlike you to see a girl that long, and it would be doubly unlike you to keep quiet about it. It would show Riza that this thing is different.”

“That won’t work,” Roy protested. “She’d just respect my decision and leave it alone. I know her.”

“Well, you’re not going to _keep_ dating her, sir,” Rebecca clarified. “Eventually, you break up with her, but not before jealousy has Riza admit to herself that she has feelings for you.”

“We have another idea,” Jean added, “where we tell Riza there’s a rumor of someone assassinating you on a specific night. We pretend to bait out the killer by you going on a date with this lady, and Riza has to guard you all night. So, she gets to witness this. Becca’s got some friends that would totally be willing to act for us.”

In order to be nice, since they _were_ clearly trying to help him, Roy put his face in his hands instead of rolling his eyes.

“I’m afraid this is all a bit convoluted.”

“It works!” Rebecca insisted. “In multiple settings.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I-“ she glanced to the side, “I, uh, read about it.”

“In romance novels?”

“Maybe.”

Roy sighed and stood up. “Let me think about this.” He put some money on the table. “I’ll let you know if I decide to take you up on it.”

They nodded and seemed satisfied with his answer, as though they hadn’t expected him to agree in the first place.

“Out of curiosity, why are you two so interested in doing this?”

“She’s my best friend,” Rebecca said. It was all she needed to say. “She’s been alone too long.”

The thought gave him a pang, and he felt the seal on his box becoming loose. “Yes, she has.”


	2. Chinks in the Armor

Two mornings later, Roy strode into his office at his usual time. He was surprised to find Heymans already in the office. Usually, the office was just Roy and Riza for an hour or two before the others showed up.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said to note the oddity.

“Sir.” Heymans stood. “I wanted to request a moment alone with you, if that’s alright.”

Roy frowned, hoping it wasn’t a continuation of the conversation he’d already had with Jean and Rebecca. That alone had disturbed his sleep for the past two nights, and after the vivid dream he had last night… well, he did his best from looking over at Riza’s desk and rekindling images from it.

“Is everything alright?”

“The office two doors down is empty at the moment, sir.”

“No need,” Riza called over to them. “I have to take this stack over to the bursar. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“Thank you,” Roy said, still not looking at her. Her voice alone continued to stir the feelings that had been slowly slipping back out.

As she left the room, Roy walked over to his desk and took his coat off. “What can I help you with, Breda?” He sat in his seat and steepled his fingers together as his subordinate stood at attention in front of his desk. Why was Breda acting so formally?

“Sir, I wanted your permission to ask Lieutenant Hawkeye out to dinner.”

Roy raised his hands over his mouth to hide the sudden jolt those words gave him.

“I’m not her father, Lieutenant.”

“I understand that. I’m not asking for permission in that way. Our team here has a wonderful dynamic, and the last thing I would want is to disturb that. If you think relationships among us would get in the way of what we have to accomplish, then I will respect that decision. I wanted to ask you first, before I ask her or we file with the court martial office.”

Roy hesitated, torn. He wanted to tell Breda no and that it would mess too many things up, but it would be hypocritical. Hadn’t he just been considering doing the same thing?

“Are you certain she’s open to the idea?”

Breda smile and shrugged, and the combination pained Roy. He saw the hope in Breda’s eyes and an excitement. The man was genuine. He knew he wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t serious. He wouldn’t risk their team for nothing.

Roy had lost his chance.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant.”

Breda grinned, then about-faced, and left the room, presumably to ask Riza to dinner.

Roy waited a moment then stood and punched the flat surface of his desk. “Dammit,” he hissed. “Damn those two.”

He spent the rest of the day in a foul mood, though he tried not to show it. He didn’t want Breda or anyone to put two-and-two together. Riza, of course, noticed. She always knew how he was feeling.

When she came over to his desk, she stood a little close and asked under her breath, “Would you like me to get you some chocolate, sir?”

“Why?”

She leaned over and whispered, “Since it’s your time of the month.”

He shoved the forms back to her and glared. If it were anyone else, he would have lectured them on propriety and “the proper way to address a superior officer,” but she was always too clever for him to open himself up to whatever retort she had prepared.

The day passed too slowly, but when it did end, the last in the office were Roy, Riza, Heymans, and Jean. Heymans stretched as he stood and grabbed his coat.

“Nook & Cranny’s?” he asked, pointing at Riza.

She smiled at Heymans and nodded. “See you, there.”

Jean’s jaw dropped in genuine shock. Roy’s mood completely blackened.

After Heymans closed the door, Riza stood. “Sir, I’d like to leave early tonight for personal matters.”

“I don’t care, Lieutenant,” he replied, unable to keep the attitude out of his voice any longer.

Riza clearly looked like she wanted to say something, but after noticing Jean was still there, she merely nodded and stepped out as well.

Roy poured all of his irritation in a glare at Jean who swallowed nervously, picked up the phone, and dialed without looking. “Hey, Rebecca, can you meet me and Roy at the same spot tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a moment in the 2009 anime when Breda calls Hawkeye "Riza," and it made me speculate...


	3. Hangover and Hangout

They hadn’t seen it coming either. No one had. Jean and Rebecca tried to console him, but everything made it worse. Especially when Rebecca, well passed tipsy, said, “Of all times for her to date someone! I counted on her inexperience for this to work. I mean, she’s never even had sex with the lights on.”

For many reasons, for all the reasons, Roy wished he hadn’t heard that.

“Well, you were right,” he said as he stood up from the booth. “Jealousy is a hell of a way to stir up feelings.”

Roy walked out of the bar, dejected and drunk. On his walk home, he tempted himself with every bad idea he could.

Find out where their date is and interrupt.  
Make her go on a covert mission where they have to pose as a couple.  
Forbid their relationship.  
Call her drunk and tell her how he felt.  
Ask Rebecca to convince Riza to dump Heymans.

Somehow, even despite his intoxication, he acted on none of those instincts. Perhaps there just too many to choose from. Perhaps he was afraid that none of them would work.

He fell asleep remembering the look and feel of her smooth, tattooed back.

\--

When he entered the office the next day, Friday morning, his hangover was greeted with a sharp bark. He winced then winked open one eye to glare at Riza.

She stood. “Sorry, sir. I brought Black Hayate in today for training purposes.”

“That’s fine, Lieutenant. I told you that was permissible at your discretion. I just have a headache this morning. That’s no fault of his.”

He knelt down and whistled a “here” command for the dog. Black Hayate came running dutifully and wagged his tail as Roy rubbed the top of his head.

“Would you like some pain killers, sir?”

“No, just coffee.”

All the energy and irritation yesterday from yesterday felt sapped out and replaced by a lethargic depression. Drinking always had this effect on him.

He sat at his desk, and Riza placed a cup down. “Here, sir.” She put a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. The sensation was unpleasant due to his headache, and he felt even sadder that he hadn’t been able to enjoy it.

It took two hours for the coffee and the quiet of work to placate the throbbing in his head. At 10:00, he and Riza walked to a cabinet meeting. As he sat and discussed continued plans for Ishvalian re-incorporation to Amestris, he felt invigorated. He forgot the woman behind him. He leaned forward, listened, and applied himself to the problems and stored away new details for later.

This is what he was good at and what he’d gotten himself to this position for. None of these matters seemed small. He felt responsible for helping each crisis. As the meeting ended, his head was spinning with more ideas to pull strings and make his plans happen.

Riza walked beside him, jotting notes as he spouted out a few ideas.

“Also, make a note that I need to call…”

He paused when he saw her give a quick smile to something out the window. Following her eyesight, he saw Breda and Havoc standing outside waving at them.

He rolled his eyes. “Why are they outside?”

“I’m assuming Havoc wanted a smoke break.”

“Breda doesn’t smoke, and Havoc smokes inside anyway!”

Riza shrugged.

In a less irritated tone, Roy asked, with eyes firmly fixed on the men below and not on her, “How was your date last night?”

She waited a few seconds before replying. “Very pleasant, sir. Lieutenant Breda is a good man.”

He nodded and began to walk forward. He didn’t know what he’d expected for an answer. Was she going to tell him that Heymans Breda was a cad? He’d hand chosen his team, and he could vouch for each one of them. Of course Breda had been nothing but a gentleman.

Black Hayate was sitting guard outside their office door. “Good boy. Enter,” Riza commanded. The dog promptly went inside. “Guard here,” she said pointing at a spot inside the office.

“Wow, you really have done well with that dog.”

“Thank you, sir, but he gets all the credit.”

How was that small skill even more endearing? All she’d done was teach a dog to obey her, but he found it admirable and adorable. Every little thing lately just bent him towards her more and more.

_Damn Jean and damn Rebecca._

Fuery had some new intel that took away his attention, and he was grateful for it. He stayed busy for the rest of the day, like busywork the only cure to the distracting thoughts about his lieutenant.

At the end of the day, Jean knocked on the corner of his desk, grinning with a cigarette in his mouth. “Hey, boss, want to get drinks again?”

The freedom to talk freely about his feelings and share his thoughts would surely be a release. They would understand, and he didn’t have to hide emotions or pretend he was happy for Breda. He could be himself and free.

But maybe that all just enabled how he felt. He didn’t want to take away from his productivity at work. If he could just stay focused on all his tasks and ambitions, he would forget. He could re-seal the box. He could move on.

He looked over at her, sitting at her desk with her brow scrunched up in focus over a requisition form Falman had asked her to review. One hair had escaped her clip and curved gently around her face.

“No, I don’t think so, Havoc, but why don’t you ask Lieutenant Hawkeye?” Her head popped up at the mention of her name. “I think she’s worked enough this week.”

Jean nodded understandingly then turned to Riza. “How about it, Riza?”

“Thank you, Jean. Give me an hour. I don’t want to come back to this stack on Monday morning.”

“Alright. We’re probably going to St. George’s tonight, so meet us there.”

They were alone, and it was good. Breda had already left. Roy could pretend, as they worked, that they still only belonged to each other, and he didn’t have to share her with anyone. They were in sync, working for the same purpose. She would hand him a form, and he would sign it without reading, trusting her judgement implicitly. He couldn’t have done any of this without her. Even the thing that he loved and used to distract himself from her, this job and all it entailed, were still wrapped up in her.

But then she left. She took her coat, said goodnight, and left him alone with nothing but the phones and the paperwork. Her absence was loud.

He put his head in hands and let out a deep sigh he’d been holding in all day. His traitorous imagination tried to think of an excuse to touch her the next time he saw her.

Then his head shot up. Had they said St. George’s? And no one invited Breda?

He waited an appropriate amount of time after she’d left, then grabbed his coat and headed to the bar.


	4. Not Like This

Riza looked pleased to see him when he walked into St. George’s, and his heart nearly stopped. Sure, she may have already had a drink, but that didn’t change the truth that her face lit up, her eyes were shining, and her rare dimples showed, and it all made him freeze for one moment. Coming here was the best decision he’d made all day.

Then someone bumped into him from behind. He apologized and moved inside towards the booth the other three were sitting at.

Rebecca smiled and nodded at him, and Havoc gave a toothy, knowing grin. “Oh, hey, boss!”

St. George’s was definitely a more cramped bar than Safford & Jensen’s, but Roy didn’t mind when he slid into the tight booth next to Riza and felt their thighs press close together due to the lack of proximity.

“So, you changed your mind?” Rebecca asked with one eyebrow raised, teasingly.

Roy shrugged but tried to give his most subtle “shut up” glare. Rebecca closed her eyes, clearly pleased with herself.

Once he was settled into the booth, silence fell over the whole booth for a painful five seconds. Roy became vividly aware that he was a commanding officer getting drinks for the third time this week with his subordinates. Why was no one talking? Was his rank an obstacle to casual comraderie? He had never thought so before, but an anxiety gripped his chest and worried him that he’d misread their dynamic. 

Until, that is, Jean slapped the table and practically shouted, “So! It’s Friday! What game are we playing?”

“Games?” Hawkeye asked.

Roy had to turn at ninety degrees to look at her when he talked, making it very obvious when he did so. They were all slouching and leaning back, clearly embracing the weekend feeling, yet Hawkeye sat perfectly erect. Somehow, Roy deduced from her posture and how little she’d drank of the mug in front of her that she actually planned on going back to work in the morning.

He almost opened this mouth to verify this when Jean started talking again, “Drinking games!”

“Let’s do questions first!”

“What’s that?” Roy asked.

Jean and Rebecca pointed and shouted, “Drink!”

“What?!” Riza repeated, confused.

Again, the couple both pointed at Hawkeye and ordered her to drink as well. She and Roy both raised their brows at each other, shrugged, then took a chug of the drinks in front of them. Only mid sip did Roy realize he hadn’t ordered anything yet. Was he drinking Jean’s or had they anticipated him coming?

After swallowing, Roy slammed his mug down and said, “I need Jean to explain the rules right now.”

“That’s not actually how it goes,” Jean admitted, and the other two laughed.

Again, Riza and Roy gave each other some side-eye signaling that they were dealing with fools.

“Jean,” Rebecca asked rather theatrically, “how do you play the drinking game?”

“Rebecca, would you like to tell them?”

“Don’t you normally prefer to explain?”

“What is happening?” Roy grumpily inserted.

“I’m lost, too, sir,” Riza said.

“Drink!” Jean and Rebecca cried in unison, pointing at Riza.

The confusion and drinking lasted about another five minutes in which both Roy and Riza had to drink three more times. Jean left to buy another round, and Roy demanded a new game by the time they got back.

“Okay, here’s a variant of that game,” Jean offered, making Roy roll his eyes. “We each take turns asking a question that we _have_ to answer. I’ll do one for an example.” Jean tapped his chin in thought, but Roy knew he was setting them up again somehow. “Why do you never see dirt piles next to mole holes? Hmm. Oh, right, because they dig from the inside out!”

Riza’s mouth opened in surprise and confusion. She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out how that would work. Roy put a hand on her leg to try to keep her from saying anything, but it was too late. 

“But how did they get inside in the first place?” she asked.

Roy pulled his hand away. _How much of a lightweight is she?_

It didn’t take long, maybe another hour, before these games achieved their apparent purpose. Riza was well past sobriety when she started rubbing her hand on Roy’s shoulder. Rebecca and Jean looked at each other and pretended not to notice. His eyebrows shot up in discomfort and confusion. Of course, he liked it. Of course, it felt wrong.

He turned to stare just as she put her head on his shoulder. “Colonel,” she whispered. Was she so drunk she’d forgotten his promotion? Then she stared pressing her fingers into the side of his leg.

“Lieutenant?” he asked, his voice low.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you move?”

He let out a sigh, as the tension building in him broke. Wordlessly, he moved out of the booth and watched her drunkenly tried to scoot out and stand upright. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she wobbled.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’ll be right back. Jean, you’re gonna lose this next one!”

“I’m sure,” Jean replied, eyes full of mirth and a grin barely concealed behind the hand covering his mouth.

Once Riza was out of hearing range, Rebecca started giggling to herself. “Well, she’s a goner.”

“Yeah, looks like you’re gonna have to walk her home, sir.” Jean elbowed Rebecca, and they both slid out of the booth. “Have a goodnight!”

“What?! You can’t leave,” he demanded. “Rebecca, you need to walk her home.”

“Ooh, sorry,” she replied, still heading to the door. “I’m too drunk.” She clearly wasn’t. “Jean has to walk _me_ home. Bye!”

“Have fun!” Jean called, waving without turning back.

Roy was furious. They’d intentionally gotten Riza drunk to set up this moment with him. Did they think they were doing him a favor, that he and Riza would have some connection right now? Did they think this level of intoxication was romantic? He would never take advantage of a situation like this.

An image came to his mind of the two of them in the back of a cab, no inhibitions, hands roaming freely, her tongue at the corner of his ear and jaw.

He shoved the idea away, but not before he felt flush from the image. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t.

Jean Havoc was gonna pay for this.

Riza came out of the restroom and looked lost when she came back to the empty booth.

“Lieutenant,” he called, and she spun around to see him standing.

“Oh, hello,” she replied and leaned back against the table. “Where did the friends go?”

His jaw was tight with frustration. “Home.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I was gonna challenge Jean to see who can disassemble and reassemble a gun the fastest.” She closed her eyes dreamily. “I’d beat him.”

“Can I walk you home, Lieutenant?” he asked, hating that he had to play into the other two’s plan.

“We’re going home?” She took a step towards him, but it was clearly difficult to do so and she put a hand on his stomach to steady herself. Something inside of him tightened with desire. “Which one?”

She met his eyes, and he swallowed, realizing how much power he had. She would go home with him right now if he asked.

“Yours. Of course.” He sighed from the effort it took to give that response. He found her jacket hung by the door and helped her into it.

“Mm, okay. I have so many boxes there.”

“Is that so?” He put an arm around her shoulder and led her outside. “What kind of boxes, Lieutenant?”

“Black Hayate does not sleep in a box. I tried. Made it comfy. But he always gets in bed with me. Fluffy fur on my bare legs.”

She slept without pants? He swallowed.

“You can sleep next to us, Roy. Black Hayate likes you, he won’t mind.”

He stopped in his tracks. She took another step forward, but when his arm fell off her shoulders, she pivoted in her track. The movement clearly made her dizzy and she fell into him. He caught her shoulders.

“Woahhhh. That was fun.” She smiled, her voice more girly and sleepy than he’d ever heard it.

“I think we’d better find a phone, Lieutenant.”

“Okay! Who are we calling?”

He turned her around and walked them to the nearest phone booth.

“You loved my dad, didn’t you?” she asked, as they walked. “He was like… so smart for you. He wasn’t that smart for me. Didn’t know a damn thing about potatoes.”

“Why would he need to know about potatoes?”

“For breakfast. I like hashbrowns. Remember, Colonel? Sometimes, I would make you hashbrowns?”

They were at the phone booth now. Images of the past swirled into his mind. Riza as a child, ignored by her father, cooking ever meal, watching him with total adoration. For some reason, the thoughts all hurt.

“I don’t make them anymore. I buy them! Do you miss my hashbrowns, sir?”

With great effort, he asked, “Do you know Breda’s number?”

“Mmhmm! Is that who we’re calling?”

He handed her the necessary coins, and she ambled into the booth to make the call.

He’d never seen her like this. Of everyone on his staff, she was the most professional and reserved. They all needed that. It seemed like a betrayal to see her like this against her will.

She called Breda and asked him to pick her up. Roy told her where exactly they were, and she repeated it. When she hung up, he helped her out of the booth, and they sat on a bench next to it.

“I’m not cold at all,” she said, taking her jacket off. “How are your legs?”

“Um, they’re fine?”

“Here.” She put her jacket over his legs and tucked in the sides. “Nice and comfy.”

He chuckled, despite himself. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

She leaned against his arm, and he had to gently push her away and prop her up. “That would not be a good position for anyone to find us in, I’m afraid.”

“Why?” her voice was almost a whine, and her eyes were drifting closed. “I just wanted something soft.”

“I’m your commanding officer,” he reminded the both of them.

She scooted back and put her head on him again. “That’s okay. We just tell the office. File a relationship with you as my pillow.”

He chuckled again. “Alright,” he conceded. He’d used up all his self-control tonight.

“You’re going to be Fuhrer, sir. I’m really excited.”

He was touched that that’s where her mind went when she was drunk. She was still thinking about their goals, still for his ambition. “Me too. We’re closer every day.”

“Yes. Yes, we’re closer every day.” She wrapped her arms around his and pressed tighter into his shoulder.

Someone was on their way. They’d made the call. He’d done the right thing. So, now, he just closed his eyes and laid his head on top of hers. It felt perfect to be sitting with her like this. Achingly perfect.

A car in front of them honked. He might have dosed off for a second, or else Heymans lived _very_ close by. Roy nudged Riza, and she sat up slowly.

Heymans got out of the car and came over to them. When Roy was able to make out his face, he saw an amiable smile.

“Riza got carried away, huh? Here, let me help.” He pulled her up, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him.

“Heymans! Hi!” She was smiling with genuine happiness at the sight of Heymans.

Heymans rubbed her back and grinned. “Well, it’s good to see you, too.”

Roy stood. “Thank you, Breda. Please see her home.” He turned around and walked quickly down the street.

\--

On Monday morning, Riza was already at her desk when Roy walked in. They nodded at each other but did not otherwise acknowledge their Friday night.

Jean came in last, and before he could sit down, Roy said, “Havoc, I’m going to need you to aid the archivist this week.”

With an unlit cigarette still in his mouth, Jean paused in the middle of pulling his chair out. “Excuse me, sir?”

Without looking up from the filed in front of him, Roy replied, “You heard me. They’re going through every file to make sure they’re in alphabetical order, and they’re double checking their indexes to make sure everything is accounted for. They need extra hands.”

No one spoke for ten seconds, then Roy heard Jean push his chair back in. “I understand, sir. You’re right. I’m the one to do it.”

Roy looked up. Jean looked apologetic as he left the room. Heymans and Riza both looked knowlingly at Roy, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Riza looked appreciative.


	5. Fake Plan

"With all due respect, sir, you're backseat sniping."

"I'm just asking questions!"

Riza and Roy were alone on the top floor of an abandoned building, watching Jean and Heymans wait for their targets below. Fuery was on the ground floor of a separate building, running the communications with Falman.

"Just stay back, keep your eyes peeled, and leave the shooting to me."

Roy withheld a huff of indignation. As much as he loved being alone with Riza, she was far less respectful of rank when she had a gun out. In the office, most people could tell she was restrained and reserved. On the field, she had fewer reserves but also less sympathy, somehow.

Besides, Roy liked to be doing something, and very often, there were lulls in their missions during which every had a task but him. Tonight, they were baiting out mercenaries who had been reportedly recruiting soldiers with anti-government sentiments. Jean had already pretended to be drunk and loudly cursing Roy's leadership in the bar the recruiters were rumored to frequent. Sure enough, a few men approached him and slipped him a piece of paper with a location and time. They told him to bring any like-minded individuals the next night if he wanted to "do something about it."

"Why approach drunk men?" Roy mused, not for the first time. "Doesn't everyone complain when their drunk?"

"You don't."

"Well, I don't... I don't act myself, do I?"

"You act a version of yourself, I suppose."

"And isn't there a version of everyone who hates their job and being told what to do?"

She paused for a moment. "Not for me."

He noticed that she'd stopped calling him "sir" every other sentence, something that happened often when she was concentrating.

"All I'm saying is that it's risky on their part. As is choosing this location. The slums makes sense, but a lot of these houses are abandoned and don't provide much cover."

"Maybe they're not expecting combat."

"They could be amateurs. Though if that's the case..."

He paced a few times, scratching the stubble he'd forgotten to shave this morning and trying to figure out what they were dealing with here. The cadet who'd informed them of these people said they were planning something, but he couldn't say what. Or wouldn't.

He peeked out the window at Jean and Heymans. Both men were leaning against the side of a building and talking to each other with their arms folded across their chest. Roy knew they were capable men, but as always he felt responsible for them and hated putting them in tricky situations.

"So, Lieutenant," Roy said, with a slight nervous drawl. "It's been like a month now. How are things with you and Heymans?" Desperate to know the answer, he hadn't given himself a second to double-think the question, and he flushed as soon as he asked.

"Well, I don't think now's the time to talk about personal matters."

He ran his white glove along the window sill and was surprised at how little dust came up. "We have 30 minutes, and we're spending all of it staring at your boyfriend. It's relevant."

"Is it appropriate?"

He wanted to pull rank and demand an update as their commanding officer, claiming he needed to know for the team's dynamic. But he knew that wasn't why he was asking. So, he shrugged. "It may not be, but I'm curious anyway."

"Well, he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, sorry..." He wasn't sure if that meant they'd stopped dating or just hadn't committed yet.

"But things between us are very good."

Ah, the latter then. "That sounds..." He was at a loss for words and started mindlessly popping his knuckles one at a time. "... promising."

Riza finally looked up from her scope and eyed him, clearly trying to decipher where this conversation was going or even where it was coming from. "And how are your girls, sir?"

He could feel the emphasis on her pluralization. "That's irrelevant." He didn't want to tell her he hadn't been able to go on any dates since Rebecca and Jean had suggested making her jealous.

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the window. "It always feels like you're trying to pretend to be a ladies man, but you don't put enough effort into making it convincing."

With her head turned away, she didn't see his mouth open in surprise at her comment.

"Wait, sir!" Her head jerked towards him quickly, and her eyes were wide with urgency. "That might be it." She pulled her gun out of the window and withdrew a pistol from her hip. She ran to the back of the room and looked out the window and down at the ground.

"Lieutenant, what is it?"

"Get down," she ordered, still looking out the window.

"What are you-"

Roy heard a slight creak from the doorway behind him. Riza threw herself across the room, her body colliding with his and knocking him down. He fell back with a thud, and her body on top of his. He heard gunshots and couldn't tell which were hers and which were an intruders. Then she rolled off and kicked him another few feet across the floor until he was obstructed from the view of the door by an old wardrobe. Again, he heard gunshots then feet scuffling. He withdrew his own gun, finally, and whipped his head and arm around the side of the wardrobe.

Though the whole encounter had taken five seconds, four bodies laid on the ground dead. Riza was pointing her gun at a masked assailant who was running for the window. She fired a final shot just as he jumped out, only to fall seven stories.

"What the hell?"

Panting and full of adrenaline, Riza didn't bother to reply. She ran out of the room for a brief moment then ran back in. She gave Roy a look over to see if he got hit then grabbed the headset to speak to Fuery.

"It's a trap! The General was the target. I've killed four men, and a fifth jumped out the window southside. Tell Havoc and Breda to do a sweep of the area then meet us up here. You two stay put."

Once again, she'd saved his life.

\--

An hour and a half later, they had all retreated to headquarters. The fifth man had somehow escaped after jumping. Amazingly, none of the team had received a single injury.

"Well, let's toast to the Hawk's Eye tonight!" Jean said after the debrief.

"I don't think we should celebrate yet," Heymans frowned. "This isn't over."

Heymans was right. They didn't know who had orchestrated all of it or what their next move world be. Though they may become desperate now that their plan failed, Roy knew they wouldn't just give up.

"I'll spend the night at the General's," Riza said quietly, staring at Heymans. "There may be a second attempt."

Heymans and Riza held contact briefly, but Roy detected concern in Heymans expression that didn't seem connected to the assassination plot.

"Wouldn't it be wiser for the General to stay at your place, Riza?" Falman asked innocently. "They wouldn't look for him there, but if they did, you could keep him safe."

"No, tonight was too much of a setback," Riza said. "They won't make a second push. Also, if it were easy for them to target him in his home, they would have already."

Fuery and Jean nodded, but Heymans flexed his jaw. That _was_ the best option for now, but Roy didn't think he should be the one to say it. Riza functioned as his bodyguard. His security was up to her within reason. But also, he felt uncomfortable insisting on it with Heymans right there.

Riza continued to look at Heymans until finally he nodded. "They're right. He should stay with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are more typos on this one! I had to write it on my phone, lol.


	6. Out of the Blue

The ride to his home was torture.

Roy let Riza drive, as usual. He knew the team thought he liked to be chauffeured around, and he let it play into his persona, but the truth was he’d proven time and again that he was not a safe driver until she forced him to agree that she always would when they were going somewhere together. (“I’m supposed to protect you, sir, and I’d also like to protect innocent civilians on crosswalks.”) He leaned against the window and pressed his forehead to the glass.

Everything was out now, too out, too close to the surface. Before, their goals and positions in the military were concrete walls between them, and it was easy to shove any desire to feeling so far away that he could occasionally flirt without even dancing close to the truth, without stirring anything. But that wall was removed and replaced by a glass window of unavailability. He was cursed to see through it, to see to her in all her glory but knowing she was involved with another man.

Not just any other man, either. Heymans Breda was one of the best men Roy knew and a trusted subordinate. He would respect Heymans’ wishes and Riza’s decision. The glass window was as impregnable as the concrete wall, but only in terms of keeping him from her. Unfortunately, everything he’d hidden was now pressing against the window to watch her.

She’d saved his life again. Lately, his mind had been so far away and fixated on her that he had missed the obvious ambush. But of course, she’d put it together. She was razor-sharp, always. He was so in her debt.

He tilted his head to the side to stare at her as she drove. Her back was straight, her face neutral, and her hands perfectly at 9 o’clock and 3. She was still in the civilian clothes she’d been wearing on the mission, and he noticed a slight tear on her shoulder. Her back was covered in dust. He wanted to pull the shirt off gently, check her for scratches, bandage any wounds, then press gentle kisses to every nick or cut.

His face flushed at the mental image, and he pressed his head against the glass again.

“Yes, sir?”

“What?”

“You were looking at me.”

He closed his eyes. “I was trying to see if you’d been injured.”

“I’m fine.”

Of course, she would say that. When he met her, she was motherless and running a house all by herself, while her eccentric, academic father locked himself in his study. Roy had tried to help her with her chores often, and sometimes, she let him, but more often, she would answer, “I’m fine.”

“Thank you for giving up your night.”

“I’m not the only one. Before I left, I asked Havoc and Falman to take shifts outside your house.”

She parked in his driveway, and they opened the door at the same time. Since she still held his keys, she also unlocked the front door and stepped inside first. The domesticity of it made him ache to hold her, to push her against the wall and wrap his arms around, sinking his face into her and deflating from the stress of the day. The sensation was physical, a tightening in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you shower first? I’ll prepare the couch for you.”

Without looking back, she tossed his keys over her head, and he caught them and hung them on a hook.

“Thanks, Colonel.”

She went into his bedroom and shut the door. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes to compose himself.

Maybe compartmentalizing his feelings all this time had been a mistake. It felt like all the longings of the last decade were present in this one moment. The same images played in his head in a loop: her naked back in his shower, the way she’d sprung into action earlier that evening, how she’d touched him when drunk, the serious expressions she gave paperwork on her desk, her smiles at Heymans, the rare moments in her father’s house when she’d seemed relieved by his company.

_Riza_.

He went to his kitchen sink and splashed face, the cold shock only a faint reminder of reality but enough to push him forward. He found a few spare blankets and pillows and spread them out on the couch. What else would she need? He set out a flashlight, a glass for water, and then an apple, because he wasn’t thinking straight. Why an apple? Did people just wake up in the middle of the night wanting a snack like he did?

At the moment he realized she didn’t have clothes to change into, she opened the door. He was bent over the couch, tucking a blanket into the cushions, but at the sight of her, he stood up straight and felt his breath quicken. She was wearing a button-down shirt of his and a pair of his boxers. Her sleeves were rolled up, and the shirt was just unbuttoned enough to show cleavage.

_Dammit, was she trying to kill him?_

He swallowed, but his brain wasn’t working enough to say any words. He couldn’t decipher her expression either, but he registered vulnerability and a question.

“Colonel?”

He only barely heard her. The sight of her was louder than her voice.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” his mouth answered automatically.

“Is it okay if I borrow this?”

“Yes,” he said almost too quickly. “I’m going to…”

“Shower?” she prompted when he took too long to finish his sentence.

“Y-yes.” He carefully, so so carefully with his hands pressed to his side like moving them would set off a bomb, moved past her. In the doorframe of his room with his back to her, he said, “You saved my life tonight. Again. Like a guardian angel. I’m never going to stop owing you. Thank you. And… Heymans a lucky man.”

He hated himself for adding that last sentence. It revealed too much. He closed his door and almost ran to the shower, slamming the second door to the bathroom and closet. The water stayed cold the whole time.

To clear his head, he pretended he was alone in his house, and he went over all his work in his head. He dwelt more on the event that had happened. He considered who would try to assassinate him, considered tasks to assign his team to track down their leads, considered which of his contacts would have the most information, and very intentionally did _not_ replay the visual of her in his clothes.

After the shower, he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a white undershirt and toweled off his hair. His body felt so tired as he finished his nighttime routine. Knowing she would be sleeping outside his bedroom and fighting the desire to join her took active energy that he was running out of.

He re-entered his bedroom and froze. She was laying on his bed, propped up on her elbows and looking at him. His breath caught in his chest. Okay, she was definitely trying to kill him.

This couldn’t happen. He knew what he wished she was doing, but he also didn’t know what she was really doing. Did she forget that she had insisted on sleeping on the couch earlier? He would tell her to leave the room.

But she kept staring at him silently.

He would definitely tell her, but first, he wanted to look at her.

He took a step closer and dropped the towel around his shoulders to the floor. Her mouth opened slightly, and he was mesmerized by the space between her lips. The bottom of her shirt had lifted up slightly and revealed a sliver of skin on her stomach.

He took another step.

Why wasn’t she saying anything?

He stood over her, returning her gaze but also letting his own drift up and down her body. He knew he’d never forget this sight, and it felt like a curse in that moment. He would be haunted by the sight of his guardian angel until he died.

She lifted her elbows, laid back deeper into the bed, and placed a hand on his hip.

Oh, _merciful holy heavens_ , he was going to die. He didn’t understand, he knew it was wrong, and he needed to get her out of here. But first, maybe he could touch her back.

He let his fingers brush gently over her exposed thigh, and she bent her leg up, pushing it against his hand. He placed his whole palm over her leg and trailed it down to her feet. When he checked her face for a reaction, her eyes rolled back into her head, and her mouth opened even more.

Out of some primeval instinct triggered by her response, he moved closer, one knee on the mattress next to her and the other between her knees. He placed one arm next to her shoulder to hold him just over her. No, he wasn’t going to kiss her. He just wanted to touch her until she made him leave. Or wasn’t he supposed to make her leave?

He hovered above her and ran a finger from one collarbone to the other. She sighed in response, and his breath caught in this throat.

“Riza,” he whispered.

He couldn’t think straight, more drunk than he’d ever been on anything else. She was in his bed, and it was the only thing in the world that made sense. He was playing with fire again, and this time, it was going to consume him whole if he wasn’t careful and restrained.

She opened her eyes, and he saw his desire reciprocated in her gaze.

_Oh, fuck_.

He slipped his hand under her neck, opening her mouth wide and pressed his lips to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate them until you read the next chapter!


	7. What Happened on That First Date

_”Thank you,” Riza said as Heymans opened the door for her. Their first date was at a simple, classy bar. He had told her not to dress up too much. “Casual,” he’d said. And when she asked if he really thought a date was a good idea, “Casual,” he said again._

_They ordered at a counter and sat in a two-person booth waiting for someone to bring food to their table number._

_“Good pick, Heymans.”_

_“You’ll like the soups here.”_

_She smiled and leaned back against the booth. “Did you have a good day?” she asked, not sure how to talk to a coworker in a semi-romantic setting. She’d said yes out of curiosity and because he promised it didn’t have to be more than one date. “We could both use a nice night out with someone who enjoys our company,” he had said, and she couldn’t argue with that. And out of everyone in their office, she judged him to be the best company for a Friday night. Well, except for one person, but that was out of the question._

_“I did. You said yes, and I spent the whole day looking forward to tonight. But I want to be clear right away, Riza. This isn’t exactly romantic, though I want to be… closer.”_

_She raised an eyebrow, curious and interested, but a young woman interrupted them at that moment with their food. They both thanked her, and Riza placed a napkin over her lap as Breda gave her the money._

_Once the woman was out of earshot, Riza said, “Go on.”_

_Heymans nodded and continued to talk while he dipped small bites of his sandwich into his soup then into his mouth. “I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but please hear me out. We both work in the same office. We’ve been in the same wars. We work for the same man and with his frustrating subordinates.” Riza chuckled. “We’re in the same boat until the end. And after all these years, I like to think I’ve come to know my fellow teammates fairly well. And you and I, Riza, have the same problem.”_

_“Oh?” She took a sip of her soup and noted that he was right about this place. “What problem?”_

_“We’re both in love with men we can’t have.”_

_Her spoon froze over her soup, and her gaze was fixed on the space of the table between them. Idly, she noticed her body was responded the same it did when she sensed danger on the field._

_“Have I really been so obvious?” she asked, addressing one layer of his statement at a time._

_“No, no.” Heymans put a hand on her forearm. “Don’t worry. You’re are the height of propriety, I promise. Like, I said. It’s just been years, Riza. We’ve fought together for so long. And I’ve had to become an expert on subtle body language for other reasons.”_

_She looked up at him now and studied his face. His expression was compassionate and earnest._

_“Do we love the same man?”_

_He smirked and let go of her arm. “Don’t worry about that either. We have different tastes.”_

_“Then who- “_

_He waved her question away. “Let’s not get into that yet. I just… I know we’re both hiding away the most important part of ourselves. And I know, more than anyone, how painful it is to live like this. To be this alone. We pretend all day long, and we’re experts at denying ourselves for the sake of those we love, even at the expense of our love.”_

_She felt a stinging in her eyes and covered her face._

_“You’re the most principled and also most gentle and caring person I know, Riza. You shouldn’t be alone. And neither should I. I didn’t ask you on this date to start a romantic relationship but to start a deeper… friendship. I want to be there for you. And… selfishly, I’m hoping you can be someone I can open up to.”_

_A tear slipped out despite her attempts to stop it. She grabbed Heymans' hand._

_“I’m so sorry, Heymans. I had no idea.”_

_He smiled at her. “Well, good. I’ve been doing my damnedest to make sure no one had any idea.”_

_The rest of the night, Riza asked questions. She’d never actually met someone open about this kind of situation. Heymans was open, and she noticed his shoulders relax the more he talked. He told her about his childhood, about carrying a secret like this, about being in the military, about stories of other men who’d tried to live openly in the way he wanted to, about their dishonorable discharges._

_After they finished eating, they went back to Riza’s place. She poured them both wine, and they sat on the couch. She told him about growing up Berthold Hawkeye’s daughter. Some of the stories she’d told friends before. Most of them, however, were like Rebecca. Her family was all alive, all together, and she enjoyed dating whomever she wanted. It felt different to tell Heymans, whose father had been a similar kind of scum to Berthold. It felt different to tell someone who_ understood _at a personal level._

_She found herself being more and more honest and open. She showed him the tattoo and then the burn marks. He actually teared up and placed a hand on her back. How long had it been since she’d been touched? She turned around and hugged him._

_They both started crying. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was just 3am. Maybe it was the relief of opening up after years of silence to a kind-hearted, familiar friend._

_He spent that night on her couch, and the next weekend, she went to his place and spent the night on his.  
_


	8. Some Direction

In the past, he had at times woken up with a foggy brain and not quite sure who was the woman in his arms. It could take a few minutes to register how he'd ended up where he was and with who. But this morning, he remembered immediately every detail of the bliss from last night and exactly who it was with. Riza. Finally.

And with those memories, he reached out to the other side of the bed and embraced only a cold pillow. His eyes flung open. She was gone.

He tried not to take it personally. She _was_ in his house in order to protect him.

So, he sat up and rolled his shoulders. He could smell coffee, and it made him grin. Maybe she'd woken up early to make some for him?

He grabbed a pair of boxers, slipped them on, and noticed the button-down shirt she'd worn last night folded neatly on his dresser. What was she wearing then? His mind had fun trying to guess. Eager for the day, he opened his bedroom door wide and stepped out.

Jean, Kain, Falman, Heymans, and Riza all stared at him.

He paused for the briefest of moments, but one did not become a candidate for the next Fuhrer by letting surprises floor you. Yes, shame was rising, but he decided to lean into the moment as though he had meant to do exactly this - march half-naked to his kitchen for coffee before getting dressed. For all they knew, this was his morning routine.

He strode forward.

Kain and Falman averted their gaze, Jean grinned and did that nod where the chin goes up just once, Heymans smirked, and Riza looked down at a piece of paper in her hands. She was wearing new clothes, clean, clearly hers. Her hair was pulled back, and she had a cup of coffee in her other hand.

Where had she gotten clean clothes? She wouldn't have left. Someone brought them. Heymans. He must have a key to her place.

Something dark twisted in Roy's stomach.

"Sir, you're going to want to hear this," Riza said to his back once he'd walked passed them all into the kitchen. 

He poured a cup then came back to lean against the doorframe while taking a sip. "Yes?"

"We think we know who's behind this, sir," Kain said, eyes flicking to Roy once then back away.

"Fuery and I," Heymans began, "did some digging last night. He did some background on the bar where those recruiters first contacted Jean, while I had a... conversation... with the officer who tipped us off about these men in the first place."

"We didn't find very much," Kain said, now looking at Roy much more confidently, "but there was one name that came up on both ends."

"Sheena Troc," Jean said. "That's all we've got."

Roy realized his men had worked all night while he'd had sex then slept like a rock. He wanted to kick his own shins. He's been so distracted by the prospect of Riza being near that he had let his team carry more weight than he had. It was unacceptable.

The fact that one of those men was dating (and maybe living with? - he made a note to unpack that _later_ ) the woman he'd spent the night with didn't help a rising feeling of self-disgust.

"Good work. We have something to go on. Let's get to the office and investigate Sheena Troc."

He nodded at them then walked back to his room.

As he closed the door, he heard everyone groan after Riza said, "We'll need detailed reports on all of this."

\- -

After Roy got dressed, they all headed to the office. Most of the team piled into his car, but Riza insisted she and Heymans should ride together in Heyman's car for a moment alone. Roy nodded his mute assent.

Roy was obviously going to spend the whole car ride worrying about what was happening in the other. Was she telling him cheated? Was she ending it? Or was she faking it because last night was a lapse in judgement for both of them?

"Okay, they _are_ dating, right?" Falman asked from the front seat, twisting back to look at Jean.

"Uh. Yeah," Jean answered, clearly uncomfortable taking about it in front of Roy. "First date was a month ago."

Falman faced the front again. "I thought so. They've been leaving work and coming back at the same time a lot lately. Honestly, I never would've paired them."

"I see it," Kain said. "She clearly has a high standard of quality in both her personal and professional life. She's dependable, organized, skilled, kind. You can the same for Breda to some extent. And a while ago, I know he spent the whole weekend moving her out of one apartment and into a new one while she worked through the night to finish both of their paperwork. It speaks to the caring nature of a relationship that they split the labor like that based on strengths."

"Damn, Kain, since when are you a love alchemist?" Jean asked.

"Enough," Roy finally said.

\- -

By lunch, Roy had read or written Sheena Troc's name so many times that the words crossed the line from foreign to familiar then back to foreign again. There was no trace of Sheena or a Troc family. Almost certainly a cover. This would not be simple.

Stretching at his desk, Roy looked up from his desk and observed his team. They were all focused, but they were clearly ragged.

"If any of you haven't slept in the last 24 hours, take the rest of the day off," he ordered, watching them to make sure they obeyed.

Most of them looked up to make sure he was serious. After Jean stood up, the rest followed suit, grabbing coats and hitting the door before Roy could change his mind. He knew they would arrange a security shift for him again tonight. They needed to rest now while they could. He wasn't going to change his mind.

Riza, however, didn't move. She didn't even look up when he made the offer. When the door closed behind the last of them, Roy watched her lick a finger and turn a page.

_God, did she do that on purpose?_

"Aren't you going home, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir, I've had plenty of sleep, while the rest were doing hard work. We have catching up to do."

He nodded, hearing his own conscience in her words.

By the afternoon, they had more leads. Autopsy reports and dental records from the bodies last night came back with names. Everyone trying to kill Roy, so far, was ex-military.

They kept digging for more connections, and a new feeling rose to compete with the ones about his romanic situation. Someone from within was trying to kill him again.


	9. New Plans

While in the office, Riza stayed focused on the paperwork, and Roy followed her cue. He was dying to ask questions - a million of them. He hated being in this limbo of not knowing where things stood or what she'd already said to Heymans. But he also knew that lives were on the line, and they had to focus.

Still, his mind felt splintered. He wasn't thinking as well as normal. He'd always had an ability to feverishly fixate on a problem until he cracked it. The process was practically involuntary, but he'd never minded because he'd always fixated on things that furthered his goals. But right now, all he could think about was Riza.

Frequently, he'd look up from his paper to stare at her. He'd remember how soft her body was. He'd wonder if he would get to touch it again. He started scheming how he could get her to leave Heymans and profess her feelings for him, but everything he thought of sounded like something Jean and Rebecca would come up with.

When it came down to it, he was afraid of being direct. He had a feeling she had chosen to stay with Heymans. If she hadn't, wouldn't she have said something to him in this time alone? Would she have gotten in the car with Heymans?

_Holy homunculus, he was sounding like a teenager._

This wouldn't do. He was an adult. He was going to be the leader of this country. It was time to be direct.

It took five minutes to work up the nerve, but eventually, he stood and slowly crossed the room to the door in order to lock it. He could feel her eyes following him. He swallowed and locked the door.

"Hawkeye," he said then turned around.

She was right behind him. He almost jumped. He always forgot she was stealthy until moments like this.

"Yes, sir?" she answered, taking a step closer so that there was barely an inch between them.

That look in her eyes was back, the same from last night. He lost all will again, especially when she reached out and unbuttoned his jacket slowly at the torso.

"We need to talk, Lieutenant," he said weakly.

"They'll come back any minute, Colonel. Should we talk, or…"

_Well, he_ had _always fantasized about having her in the office._

Heat flooded his whole body at the thought and memories of his daydreams. But he had more than that now. He knew exactly what she looked like naked and exactly what her mouth tasted like. No more curious imaginations. He knew her.

Yet he still wanted to know more.

She slipped a hand behind his neck and dipped his mouth towards hers. He certainly enjoyed this more aggressive version of her. Last night, she had been all invitation, but this evening, she was undressing him and moving him.

"Put me on that desk." And now she was ordering him.

He picked her up and was surprised by the sturdy weight of her. Muscles weigh more than fat, and she was all muscle. Following her command, he put her on the nearest desk and kept his hands on her hips.

She broke away from the kiss and began to lick at his ear and neck. "Oh, god, yes," he groaned, tightening his grip on her hips. Her hands were under his shirt and roaming his back. She was grasping and eager, and the urgency lit up his whole body with need.

He shoved her backwards and leaned over her, taking her mouth again. He slipped one hand under her back and the other in her hair, pulling it backwards. She gasped into his mouth and arched her back.

"I've been looking forward to this all day," she whispered in a low, husky voice.

His knees literally trembled at the sound. "Please keep talking."

She chuckled, and even that sound drove him crazy. "Yes, sir." She placed wet kisses in a trail from his temple to the top of his chest, punctuating each kiss with a word: "Last. Night. Was. The. Best. Night. Of. My. Life."

He rolled his eyes into the back of his head, melting on the spot. He needed her again, right now, immediately, on this desk, or he'd die.

Someone knocked on the door. Riza shoved him away immediately and pointed to his shirt then to his desk. He understood. His blood pressure was skyrocketing as he buttoned his jacket and marched back to the other side of the room. By the time he sat down, Riza had completely recollected herself and was unlocking the door. The rest of the team poured in.

"Sorry," Riza said. "We were discussing confidential matters. Why are you all here at once?"

"We crashed in Kain's dorm," Jean answered.

Once they were inside, she shut and relocked the door. "All of the hitmen last night were ex-military."

Roy blinked, surprised at how smoothly she covered for them. Had she had practice?

They all went to their desks as they asked more questions. When Heymans sat at his desk, Roy realized it was the one he'd just put Riza on top of.

"That makes sense," Heymans said. "So, it's someone who either didn't like the Colonel's involvement in the Promised Day or someone who knows how close he is to succeeding Fuhrer Grumman."

"Since it's ex-military, I think the former is more likely," Roy said.

"So, maybe we didn't fully root out all of the officers who were loyal to Bradley?" Kain asked.

"That was always a possibility," Roy nodded. "Things we need to consider are: why now and why me? I was not the only one involved in the Promised Day." He tapped his chin for a moment. "Fuery, reach out to our known allies and find out if there have been any related activity or attacks. Falman, keep looking for any trace of Sheena Troc. Ri-Hawkeye," he blushed at his mistake, "please check everyone's equipment so we can stay well-supplied and on high-alert. Requisition any materials we may need, and inform personnel we need all hands on deck this week, so none of you will be assigned menial duty rotations. I don't want any of you targeted, but we don't know what they know. Breda and Havoc, revisit the scene from last night and see if we missed anything. Find out who owned that building before and if somebody saw anyone approaching the scene from last night."

Everyone nodded and began following Roy's orders, except Heymans who asked Jean to wait for him a minute. He came over to Roy's desk, and Roy's stomach clenched at the approach.

"Sir, Jean and I are headed out, but I just wanted to remind you that we don't have to keep this kind of stuff quiet anymore. I mean, I know we don't want to tip our hand to these people, but the Fuhrer is on our side this time. It's easy to get into the habit of not trusting people, so I just wanted to remind you to consider that."

Heymans nodded respectfully then headed out to join Jean.

\--

Later that evening, when Jean and Heymans returned, they brought dinner for the whole team. Riza took a break from cleaning guns to sit on Heymans desk and discuss something with him in a low voice. Roy's attention was, again, split. Kain stood before him, giving a report, but all Roy could think about was Riza on that same desk earlier but also what was she talking to Heymans about now?

"So, boss," Jean said, tossing back some spicy chicken dumplings. "What're we doing tonight? Your place again?"

Everyone paused and paid attention, knowing this conversation might affect how they spent their night.

"No, he shouldn't stay in the same place two nights in a row," Riza protested, "until we know more about what we're dealing with. Why doesn't he stay at your place tonight, Havoc?"

Jean frowned and poked at his food with a fork. "Uh. Well. Yeah, I guess that's fine."

"Is that a problem?"

He shrugged. "It's Rebecca's birthday tonight."

Riza smirked. "Understood. Don't worry."

"Well, my place is out. I live in a dorm," Kain said. "So does Falman. What about your place, Breda?"

"Can't," Heymans said immediately. "It got flooded. I've bouncing between Riza's place and Havoc's."

Riza shrugged. "Okay, how about my place tonight and Havoc's place tomorrow. Breda, your place was supposed to be fixed tomorrow, so I'm assuming you can take the third night. If we need it."

"I feel like a dog," Roy said. They were being extra careful, but after Hughes' death, assassination attempts were taken seriously.

Riza smirked but didn't make eye contact.

"Alright, I know you all took shifts to protect me last night. For now, let's just rotate where I stay each night. I'll leave at a separate time to whomever I'm staying with, in case anyone's being followed. I can give the slip. I know this is beyond what's typically required, so I appreciate your sacrifice."

They all nodded in agreement then returned to what they were doing.

\--

It was 0100 hours when Roy finally came to Riza's door. When she opened it with a smile, his heart nearly burst.

"That's a sight for sore eyes," he said softly, as he stepped inside.

"I was just thinking the same thing." She stepped into his arms, and they held each other for a solid minute. Hayate yipped once in excitement, pawed at Roy's leg, then gave up and went to his food bowl.

Roy was working up the nerve to say something. They _needed_ to talk, but maybe they were both afraid it would end as soon as they spoke the truth out loud. They'd waited so long to get here. He wanted as much of it as he could get while he still could.

But there's a right way to do things and a wrong way.

"Riza, we need to talk."

"Please don't." She buried her face deeper into his chest. "We can keep going if we don't talk about it, right? We can stay like this and pretend."

His face crumpled, as if she'd punched him in the gut, and he felt a pressure building behind his eyes. This was all the confirmation he needed. She was cheating on Heymans, and she didn't want to give up either man. He would never have expected it of her.

She wasn't choosing him, though. She was trying to choose both of them, but he wasn't into sharing. Maybe a better man could have been okay with the situation, but he wanted uncontested claim to all of her, which was how he wanted to give himself in return.

"You're amazing, Riza. You are the most capable officer I've ever met, and you're the gold standard of women. I want… everything with you. But it seems like now isn't the right time." She squeezed him tighter, holding on in protest of his words. "I can't do this without you. Any of it. But I'm afraid that this kind of situation would mess up our future together."

When she took a step back, Roy could see her eyes shining with tears about to spill, and she looked angry. "I disagree. It's too late now. And don't I get a say?"

He ground his teeth. This wasn't easy to say, and it was only going to be worse if she fought him. "I'm not saying I don't want it. It's just that I… I can't do it."

"Bullshit. Why not? It's good this way. We're good. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid. This isn't about fear." He was trying so hard not to insult her by calling her a cheater. He still wanted a chance with her in the future. He needed that hope to make it out of this. "It may be good for you, but it's not for me."

She got in his space again, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him down for a kiss. He struggled briefly before sinking into it and kissing her back hungrily.

"You don't think that's good?" she whispered then bit his bottom lip.

He half-growled then shoved their bodies against the nearest wall, pressing against her as much as he could without hurting her. She shoved her hands in his hair and rocked her hips against him. They were both ravenous, desperate, and trying to shut each other up.

After a long day of trying to do the right thing and be the right person, he'd run out of self-will to resist anymore.

Everywhere he touched, he thought _mine, mine, mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I used everyone's first name in the prose except for Falman. Poor Falman.
> 
> Also, I love the mental picture of everyone picking a spot in Fuery's room and just passing out, and he's like, "Oh, okay, this is fine, just please don't touch my ham radio."


	10. Unforeseen

He woke up to her fingers running through his hair.

“You touch my hair a lot,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“I have spent a decade staring at it and wishing I could feel it and play with it. I’m making up for lost time.”

They’d fallen asleep with her back to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her, exhausted from the long day and rigorous night-time activity. Now, as he slowly opened one eye at a time, he saw her facing him and smiling softly. She rested her arm on his shoulder, so she could more easily touch his hair. He yawned and stretched, and she rubbed his chest with her other hand.

The dark blue outside was lightning slightly, and Roy guessed it was about five in the morning. Black Hayate was at the food of the dead and gave a long stretch before curling up and going back to sleep.

If he could wake up like this every morning, he didn’t need anything else in life.

“Good morning,” he said, eyes now fully open and grinning at her. “I love waking up to a blonde in my bed.”

“I love waking up in _my_ bed,” she corrected him, “with a bastard asshole.”

He barked a laugh and pulled her closer to him. She nestled her head on his chest under his chin, and he could feel her grin.

He’d always wondered (daydreamed? fantasized?) about what she was like as a lover, and the answer was exactly what she was like as an adjutant and bodyguard. The first night, she was submissive and inviting, responding intuitively to all of his desires. All day yesterday, she was authoritative, demanding, and certain. At all times, she was satisfying and exactly what he needed and wanted.

Slipping a hand under the blankets, he caressed her hip. “When did you put your underwear back on?”

“After I went to the bathroom. I don’t like sleeping without it”

“But bras are optional?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that different?”

“I’m not going to explain my anatomy beyond that.”

He ran his fingers up and down and her spine, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Did you realize you called me Colonel yesterday?”

“Old habits.”

“Riza, can we talk about this?” He hoped being safe in his arms would help her talk about it. “I’m not going anywhere, but we need to put it to words.”

He decided right then that if she asked him to be his male-version of a mistress (why wasn’t there a word for that?) he would do it. He would share, even if it hurt, because going back to _no_ mornings with her would kill him.

She took a deep breath and clung to him tighter. “Okay. Tell me why you don’t think it’s a good idea, then I’ll tell you why it is.”

Despite himself, he chuckled. “Alright. Though it’s clear we both… care for each other very much… and enjoy each other, I don’t… Hmm. I want _all_ of you. I want to spend _every_ morning with you. I want to walk home with you every night, and I want to make you breakfast in bed, and I want…” He had to stop himself. He was going too far down the wrong path. And hadn’t he just decided he’d be her man on the side so long as he could have her? “I don’t want to share you, Riza. I will if I have to. But please don’t make me.”

Her voice was so tender and earnest when she replied that it made him ache. “You don’t have to share one inch of me. I am all yours, and I always have been.”

“But… what about Breda?”

Riza jerked away from him fast as though he’d insulted her. She pushed against his chest to arc back and see his face. “What?”

Now Roy was confused. “Your… boyfriend?”

Her eyes were wide with either astonishment or confusion, he couldn’t tell. “Roy, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends. I told you that.”

“Riza, he asked my permission before asking you out. I know about it. Did you think it was a secret?”

“No, I didn’t think that was a secret. But he just wanted to pursue a friendship.”

Roy blinked. “Riza. Are you fucking serious right now?”

She sat up. “What?!”

So, he sat up, too. “He has a key to your apartment, he sleeps here regularly, and you smile at each other like… like…”

“Like _friends_?!”

This is not how he wanted to have the conversation. “Dammit. You realize how that sounds, don’t you?”

She stabbed a finger into his bare chest. Thankfully, she kept her nails short, or it really _would_ have been a stabbing. “Listen, Mustang, you are not the only person with a brain in this bed. Heymans is not making any moves. He’s a good friend. I can’t… I’m not going to betray his confidence, but I promise you there’s nothing more. If you want this to work, you’ll have to trust me on that, and you’ll have to trust _your_ Second Lieutenant that he’s an honest man.”

He leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees. _For fuck’s fake._ “Riza, this is crazy.”

“Roy, please.” She kissed his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. “I know how this sounds. But will you try to trust me?”

He leaned his head on hers. “You’ve had my back this far.”

At the mention of his back, she slipped behind him and pulled him back so that he leaned against her chest, his head between her bare breasts. She ran her fingers up and down his chest, like his ribs were sensitive piano keys.

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed the top of his head. He closed his eyes and relaxed. She began kneading his shoulders. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.” Her fingers wandered lower. “Or a better boss.” They were skirting the edge of the blankets. “A better General.”

His mouth sagged open, and his breathing quickened. How could she both relax and excite him at the same time?

Just as her hands reached exactly where he wanted them to, Hayate growled and stood up. They heard a door shut, and Hayate started barking.

“Hey, Riza!” Heymans called from the hallway. Riza casually moved next to Roy and pulled the blanket up, though she made no effort to hide what they were doing.

“In here!” she said loudly, and Roy’s eyes nearly bulged from his head.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

She may believe that Heymans really wanted nothing more than friendship, but Roy felt like Heymans would take it as a betrayal. He had asked Roy’s permission to ask her out after all. Would he think Roy had swooped in and stolen his girl? At least, now he would know where things stood.

When the door opened, Riza was half-smiling. Heymans wasn’t, and he froze at the sight of the two of them topless in bed. Roy’s shoulders tensed.

Then Heymans grinned. “Well, _good morning_ , you two.”

Riza grinned back. “Good morning to you. You’re here early.”

Hayate hopped down and ran over to greet Heymans. Roy had absolutely no idea what this situation called for, but he didn’t think their reactions were it.

“Well, I see you’re already awake.”

Then Riza got out of the bed, completely naked except for the panties that were thin enough to be almost transparent. She walked over to her dresser and began searching for more clothes. She patted Heymans arm as she walked by.

“You still should’ve brought me a coffee.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?!” Roy almost shouted. He was doing his utter damnedest to trust Riza, but there was no way a red-blooded man could see this goddess naked and not be aroused at the sight. If Heymans really wanted to just be friends, why was she doing this to him?

They both turned and saw Roy’s open-mouthed shock, bordering on anger.

“Oh,” Riza said, frowning. “I told him you and I were just friends.”

“It’s true, boss, I promise,” Heymans insisted, throwing his hands up like he’d been caught with one of them in a cookie jar.

Roy gestured between the two of them. “This is not how friends act around each other.”

Riza crossed her arms which only made her chest look even more alluring, and he was still trying to *calm down* from where her hands had been only sixty seconds earlier.

"This is how Rebecca and I act."

Roy gaped. "But… that's different…"

Heymans put a hand on Riza's bare shoulder, "It's okay, Ri. I can trust him."

She relaxed and uncrossed her arms, looking at Heymans with concern. "You don't have to say anything."

He smiled at her. "It's fine." Then he turned his gaze to Roy and stood up straight. "Riza and I are just friends. I'm in love with someone else. Someone else on the team."

It took Roy probably twenty seconds to react fully. First, he raised his eyebrow and tried to figure out who he was forgetting on his team. Then he wondered if Heymans thought Sheska was on their team. Eventually, it clicked. He understood what was meant and why Riza wasn't worried about being naked right now.

"Breda, I'm…"

Riza began getting dressed, and Heymans waved away whatever Roy was going to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Good, then we’ve covered our asses.”

“Wait… we? Is it… mutual?”

Heymans shrugged. “As much as it can be. There are laws against it, so we’re…” He shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable with sharing the details. “We have to restrain ourselves. Any indulgences have been rare, brief, and… not enough.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Is it...umm…?”

“Well, I’ll tell him that you know. I don’t think it’s my place to out him to his commanding officer.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully and decided not to try to figure out who it was. “Well, I know the pain of restraint, Breda. I’m sorry you’re in that boat.”

Riza had put a thin under shirt on and was rubbing Heyman’s arm sympathetically. Roy watched her and easily tapped into the unrequited longing he’d been trying to ignore for years, and it made him empathize easily with Breda’s situation. He was blessed to be able to hold her now.

“Wait, Riza - why were you so opposed to talking about us last night?”

She finished buckling her belt and put her hands on her hips, but she stared at the floor, not meeting his eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me this was a mistake. Too little reward for too much risk with our goals.”

All the tenderness he felt for her rose in full force, and he would’ve jogged to her and held her if he wasn’t stark naked. He swung his legs over the bed and wrapped the blanket around him. “Riza… No. You’re the goal. Yes, I want to be Fuhrer, but I want to make the world a better place _for you_. You’re not a distraction or a mistake. You’re-”

She crossed the room and held him, head to her stomach, his arms around her waist. “I know.”

Roy buried his face against her and held her close, feeling vulnerable and grateful and sad all at once.

“Well, what’s going on here?!”

Roy looked up immediately to see Jean’s smug face in the doorway. “Oh my god, does _everyone_ have a key?”

“Heymans left the door open!” Jean protested.

“Why are you here, Jean?” Riza asked with a deadpan voice. She leaned back a bit but kept her hands on Roy’s shoulders.

“We have news, but no one’s been answering the phone. Heymans came to find out why, and I guess we have the answer.” He wiggled his eyebrows at all of them.

Riza shook her head. “The phone hasn’t rung.”

Jean stopped smiling. Heymans frowned and walked out of the room to the phone in the hallway. “The line’s been cut,” he shouted down the hall.

Riza grabbed her gun from the side of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I made a mistake and had to repost it! Hope no one missed out on how this one ends.
> 
> The next chapter should be the last! Make sure you subscribe to my profile so you get notified when I post the one-shot I'm working on: Five Excuses They Made To Touch Each Other. It's another Royai!


	11. Final Plan

"Breda, check the hallway then lock the door," Riza ordered. "Havoc, cover him."

She stood a step back from her bedroom doorway with the gun in hand, waiting. Her body blocked his, just in case. He stared out her window, wondering if it was viable as either an entry or exit. It only took seven seconds for one of the men to call out, "Clear!" as they locked the door. She relaxed slightly when the men came back to the bedroom.

"Okay, what news do you have?" Roy asked.

Riza began putting on pants and throwing Roy's clothes at him, piece by piece as the men answered. "Falman figured it out," Heymans said. "Sheena Troc is just a backwards, rearranged spelling of Coret Anesh. He was a brigadier general who died on Promised Day. He wasn't loyal to Bradley, exactly, but he wasn't loyal to anyone else either. When we put Mrs. Bradley on the radio, he tried to use that to stage his own coup, obviously misreading the situation and blinded by his own ambition."

"Not a smart guy," Jean muttered, as he walked over to the window and looked out.

"Okay, so, he's dead?" Riza asked. She was in civilian clothes and snapped her fingers at Roy when he went to put his military jacket on. She shook her head, and he shrugged, tossing it on the bed. The more his life was on the line, the more charge she took. He kinda liked it.

"Yes, but his son isn't," Jean said. "Also, you need to clean your windows."

"Yeah, his son is Gruna Anesh," Heymans continued. "And we found reports of him and a few family members returning to the country a month ago."

Roy groaned. "Okay, so, he comes back and finds discontented soldiers to attack me?"

"He's not an alchemist, so he had to use someone with a gun. And oddly, there were quite a few still loyal to his dead dad, and they were friends with others who felt misplaced."

"And so on and so on, you get the picture," Jean interrupted. "We need a plan."

"Yes," Riza said. "Breda and I will leave first. Roy, give me your keys." She caught them easily. "We'll do a quick walk-through of the building, search the perimeter, and then bring your car around back. Wait five minutes then use the stairwell on this end of the hall. Take it all the way to the ground floor, and it'll open to an alley behind this building. We'll meet you there. Is everyone armed?"

Jean and Heymans nodded. Riza marched out, Heymans on her heels. Jean and Roy followed them to the door and locked it once they were out. He checked the clock. 0620. They'd leave at 0625.

"Soooo," Jean said. "I guess things worked out with Miss Hawkeye, after all?" He grinned and nudged Roy with an elbow.

Usually Roy found ribbing annoying coming from a subordinate who was too much taller than him, but even with the adrenaline of the current scenario, he did feel happy and indulgent about this morning. "I'll just say, Gruna can shoot me, and I'll die a happy man."

Jean gave Roy a celebratory smack on the shoulder. "Good for you, boss."

Roy stood by the door, hands in his pockets, watching the clock. 0621.

Jean sat down at the table and sighed. "So, I heard what Heymans told you."

Roy frowned. "That was clearly in confidence, Havoc. I don't think you should -"

Jean held up a hand. "It's okay. I already knew. I'm the one he was talking about."

"Oh." The status quo of so many things kept changing this morning. "So… Okay. What's the story there?" He'd so rarely cared about his subordinates' love lives, and it felt odd to ask now. Still, it was relevant, and it affected two key members of his team.

"Well. How many people do you know in our situation in the military?" "To be honest? None."

"Exactly. It's not permitted. It's actually treated worse than fraternization."

Roy raised his eyebrow. This was news to him. "So, when you two lived together?"

"Yeah, uh. Well, that was… No one suspected for a long time, but then one neighbor heard us talking one night. They weren't malicious, but we knew everything was in jeopardy. We weren't being careful enough. So, we split."

"I see. And Rebecca?"

Jean sighed and rested his forehead in his hand. "I know what you're asking. Don't worry. I'm not using Rebecca. I'm capable of being interested in more than one kind of person. Heymans just… isn't. Which isn't easy. I've been hoping he'd move on, and I feel guilty all the time that I've had a chance at another source of happiness. But he keeps telling me it's okay and insisting that all he wants is for me to take those opportunities as they come. 'We're not married,' he keeps saying, like it's supposed to be fucking comforting." 

He ran the hand on his forehead through his hair then rapped the table with his knuckles staring at the floor. "And Rebecca knows. She understands." He chuckled and looked at Roy. "Honestly, even though I was bummed for you when he asked Riza out, I had kinda hoped he was moving on. Do you know why he asked her out anyway? Did they also have a plan to make you jealous?"

Roy nodded. "He knew they both needed a friend."

Jean's face twisted into an afflicted expression of both relief and heartbreak at the same time, and Roy was shocked. He felt his heart twist in response. He'd never seen such emotional depth in the other man before. "Good," was all Jean said and then he stared at the floor again.

Roy could think of nothing comforting to say. He knew what it was like to want Riza from a difference, and he hated the pain of thinking she was with Heymans. More than anything, he'd wanted her to be happy, of course. But the idea that she was happy with someone other than him had been miserable. He made a note to take it extra easy on Heymans after this.

They stayed silent until 0625.

"Let's go," Roy said. He grabbed Riza's keys off a hook to lock the door behind them.

The hallway was clear when they stepped out, and the stairs were empty, too. When they stepped out of the last door and outside, the morning air greeting them was crisp and clear. The sky was blue, except for a fading pink on the horizon. Roy couldn't help but feel optimistic as though the start of something new unfolding.

The car wasn't in the alley yet, but it was deserted except for a woman who sat on the steps of the building across from them. She was wrapped in a shawl and looked exhausted with bags under her eyes and her head leaning on the step railing.

"Wait for five minutes, then we'll go back to Hawkeye's apartment," Roy said, checking his watch again.

Jean pulled out a cigarette, and Roy tried not to roll his eyes.

It was odd that the line had been cut for as long as it had without anyone assailants making a move. They had figured out about Gruna, tried to call Riza multiple times, then decided to come to the apartment. If someone had cut the line, wouldn't they have done so right before attacking? Why wait?

He looked around the alley. Had this backdoor escape been anticipated?

The hair began to stand on his neck just as the woman on the steps stood up. Her shawl fell off, and with shaking hands, she held a gun at Roy.

Jean's hands were still cupping his cigarette and lighter, when the woman shouted, "Hands up!"

Roy and Jean slowly raised their hands.

"And stay up, especially you!" She gestured at Jean. "Mustang, take the guns off of him _very_ slowly and slide them to me. And don't make any unnecessary movements, or I shoot him in the heart."

Gritting his teeth, Roy very carefully took off Jean's guns and lowered them to the ground. Then the two of them kicked them towards her.

"Good. Okay, I see you don't have your gloves on. Even better."

She stepped towards the gun and kicked them further behind her. Roy guessed she was in her late 50s, maybe early 60s, and then he remembered what Heymans had said. Gruna had returned to the country with _a few family members_.

Taking a guess, Roy said, "Mrs. Anesh, please let this man go. Your grief is with me."

"My grief. What an interesting choice of words, Mustang. Many griefs are with you, I'd wager. But mine is also with this man and anyone else who protects you and promoted your games on that day. We will kill all of you." As soon as she said 'we,' they heard gunshots from the side of the building. Roy tried not to flinch or imagine what was happening over there. Anesh's eyes flicked briefly to the side of the building. Worry began to spread over her face.

"Get on the ground! Now! Both of you!"

Roy almost sagged in relief at her mistake. As he lowered himself and bowed his head, he brought his arms forward and clapped them together, then pressed them on the ground when he was close enough to it. He transmuted the stone of the ground around her to rise upwards in a hollow column, trapping her in a circle of stone three feet higher than her head. She screamed as the two men took off running.

"Good one, boss! Guess she didn't know you don't need a circle!"

As they rounded a corner, they slammed into Riza and Heymans, and the four of them nearly toppled to the ground.

"Woah, woah," Heymans said, grabbing Jean's shoulders to keep him from falling over. "Are you guys okay?"

Riza looked past them to the sound of screams coming from Anesh's stone prison. "Was there someone back here?"

"Yes," Roy answered. "Coret's wife."

"Oh, shit," Heymans whispered.

"Well, we just shot her two sons and took their guns," Riza said, gesturing at the two bodies behind them. Two men were also screaming, holding their bleeding legs.

"Any other family we should worry about?" Roy asked.

Heymans shook his head.

\--

Major Summa of the Courtmartial Office had a cramped office, and Roy could smell onions on the man's breath. Riza had to dust crumbs off her chair before she sat down. Under the table they reached for each other's hand and squeezed hard, privately communicating their mutual frustration.

Summa held a hand out, and Roy let go of Riza's to shake it.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Summa said. "No matter what happens today, it's an honor to meet you." "No matter what happens?" Riza repeated.

"Oh, yes. Just because you file, it's not a guarantee that you'll receive approval from your commanding officers."

Riza pulled an envelope out of the planner on her lap and handed it to the man. "We come pre-approved."

Summa opened the envelope and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while he read. "Mmm. Hmm. Yes, well, it doesn't get any more approved than the Fuhrer himself, but I do find one detail of this letter confusing. He has dated it on the same day the law was passed that allowed documented fraternization. Have you two been secretly in a relationship since that time, and if so, why haven't you filed before?"

Roy shook his head. "No, this is new. The Fuhrer is just… _very_ preemptively supportive of the idea."

Summa smirked. "That makes no sense to me, but I'm not going to question the Fuhrer. Alright, then, I have some forms for you two to take home to sign. Just read over it. It lays the rules for what should happen if anyone suspects that you are remiss in any duties due to your relationship, and it protects both the higher-ranking and the lower-ranking members of your relationship." 

His voice was monotonous as though he'd memorized every word of this speech through repetition. He continued, "Please do not discuss your relationship without permission of your partner until those papers are signed. Any continuation in your relationship without the signed documentation will be grounds for a disciplinary review. While on duty, there must be no evidence of amorous affections or actions, and the proper titles are to be used any time either party is on duty or on military premises. Any questions?"

"Are we good to go?" Riza asked.

"Will I have to file again if there's any change in our relationship?" Roy asked. After Riza shot him a worried (or angry?) look, he added, "For example, if we were to become engaged."

Riza blushed, as Summa answered, "No, this is sufficient. And yes, you can leave if you have no more questions."

Still flustered, Riza stood quickly, and her hands fumbled slightly as she grabbed her things. Roy shook the man's hand again then stood to follow Riza out the door.

"Oh, one last thing," Summa called out. They stopped and turned around. "I need to warn you. Be prepared for the dynamic of your working relationships to change. Don’t be surprised if your relationship should arouse jealousy or envy in those around you."

They both smirked, and Roy said, "Good insight. Thank you for the warning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this! Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos. You encouraged me to keep writing, and I super appreciate that. I can't wait to write more on this site. <3


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